


Exulansis

by uchihas1000



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Canon Trans Character, I really dont know how to tag i am so sorry, Kinda, M/M, POV First Person, PTSD, Self-Hatred, Sunlit garden exploitation ft mutsuki, Unplanned Pregnancy, anxiety and body dysphoria, fluff here and there to take a break from crying, graphic depiction of rape and abuse, idk how to tag, im too angsty even i cant stand my own self off, implied rape, implied sex, use condoms kids dont be like them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchihas1000/pseuds/uchihas1000
Summary: The more he lingered in that house, the more he felt his legs itch.Arima Kishou, Hairu Ihei, Ching Li Hsiao… their genes are not entirely human. They were born and raised in a facility owned by the CCG. The Sunlit garden. Curious to know what your new underlings are?Their next generation of soldiers. Or shall I say, child soldiers.They’re under your custody now.Good luck.It ate him out. The need to know.





	1. Dear Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zp2-C9Y8eso

The water rushed deadly boiling against the back of neck. Legs standing steady on the cold tiles, he felt a slight shiver on his limbs sprint over his body before it got used to the drastic change in temperature. Fumes surrounded his naked body ,and wrapped him in a blanket as if to cuddle him. His sight was fixed on the tiles, his thought somewhere he wanted to take a break from ,but couldn’t. As the hot fumes filled his lungs up, the same sentence sprinted on his headspace, its entropy increasing as he took each word apart, detached them, cut them down, sewed them back together. His lungs were already burning, but the obvious increase in temperature of the water running against his sienna skin didn’t seem to make him flinch to the slightest.

_Arima Kishou, Hairu Ihei, Ching Li Hsiao… their genes are not entirely human. They were born and raised in a facility owned by the CCG. The Sunlit garden. Curious to know what your new underlings  are?_

He felt his blood pulse against his temples, brain throbbing under his skull.

_Their next generation of soldiers. Or shall I say, child soldiers._

Water felt as if it were running wilder and wilder out of the shower head, its white noise messing up with the static sounds in his head.

_They’re under your custody now._

_Good luck._

He turned off the faucet frantically, as if it were the origin of the stern voice in his head. Let some fresh air occupy his lungs ,and slicked the bangs blocking his sight back. He should have never accepted, not in his state. Not with demons that deprived him of even taking care of himself, let alone children. He cursed the day he mindlessly accepted, cursed the moments he would care as if…as if it were Haise. He cursed the day he didn’t even have a chance to see what was made out of their bodies after framing out and meeting their end, a calculated end it seemed.

_Their mothers, they don’t really feel their child is theirs, at least for too long. Their fathers, they don’t know them. If she’s a prestige ghoul, she’ll get to be a favorite amongst the Washuu heirs. Treated like a princess…until she’s impregnated. The child will grow out to be either another womb, or a proud Washu._

_The human women, the demi women, the newcomers, their children infused with the Washuu genes will become the soldiers. The talented to serve the CCG…If they survive the incest drawbacks that it. If their genes don’t break, they’ll manufacture Arima and Hairu. They…they are the CCG’s future. A short one indeed, since their considered elderly by their 30s, and replaced. And then it starts over. Until-_

_until forever_

His stomach elevated from its assigned place and right up to his mouth, but just has he felt the acerbic burn of the gastric acid, it decided to go back to its seat. Just like Furuta’s wavy, fluctuating almost childish tone of storytelling, his thoughts swayed around his headspace, and together with them, his distraught guts. It had almost been two years since Furuta shared this information with him, and only after dragon, when he was able to take a step back and see what everything had turned out to be, had he been able to feel the full potential of that information kick him in the guts and leave him grasping for air ever since.

_Do you know where the human women come from?_

_They’re trafficked, prostitutes, helpless women in need of money, things like that. If they’re not able to bear a child, they’re disposed of._

_Disposed of?_

A sudden rush of blood occupied his head, his breaths racing.

_They’re killed. If they try to escape they are put under drugs._

Breaths sprinted in and out of his lungs aggressively, asphyxiating.

_Under drugs. They obey like puppies after that. They become very respectful and sweet. After that, it’s all in the hands of the Washuu whether they’re mother material or entertainment material._

_RESPECT ME, YOU TADPOOL_

_MAKE PAPA PROUD, WON’T YOU?_

_It will all be over soon, just a little longer T-tooru, hmm?_

Clutching his shoulder, as if it were the source of fresh air to clean the horrid theater recreating itself in his head over, and over, and over, even after it’s been years, he tried to pull the string of his thoughts back to normality, to coldblooded judgment, to nimble logic. But how could he, bearing the weight of a thousand blocks of self hatred and guilt and disgust at his own self and the people, those people, consider normality? And if he ever diluted himself amongst the normal like a black sheep, the traces of hungry eyes would linger on every meter square of his body, the scars of the claws tearing him apart would form webs on the surface of his skin. A black sheep indeed, to the fair skinned, the guilt free headspaces, the loved. A misfit.

He turned on the faucet again, this time, it helped his wash out the vermin crawling around his head, and the remaining shampoo on his hair. As if running on autopilot, he washed himself fully off the shampoo, grabbed a towel and dried himself.

He never felt his body was truly his own. His muscles moved when he told them too, his heart beat involuntarily, his lungs craved oxygen. It somehow felt it was trying to keep him alive. But it didn’t feel him. It felt as if a mannequin was accidentally occupied by some lost soul, and its china chipped and chipped, until some parts on him were exposed. Nevertheless, he saw his own hands dry his body up with the towel. He saw how his bones exposed unhealthily some places; how his ribcage moved up and down; how he was “in his best shape to the CCG”.  He didn’t want it.

“Mucchy, are you dooone?” He heard Saiko’s voice on the opposite side of the door.

“Just a minute.” He pulled the fresh clothes out of the drawer, dressed up and made his way out, steam diffusing in the cold air of the hall from his skin.

“I just wanted to tell you me and Uri are going to maman’s house and maybe you’d like to come?” They still visit him from time to time, don’t they? When was the last time he-

“I’m fine, you can go ahead. Give him my best wishes. “ He muttered as he left for the kitchen, wet bangs covering his sight.

“But don’t you miss him? Ichika is already two!!”

“I have some reports overdue, I told you it’s okay. I’ll find some other time I might visit.”

“Okay…” She pouted. It didn’t work.

Urie was already in the kitchen, preparing some tea and unloading the dishwasher obviously because Higemaru was training ,and Saiko never did. He noticed how Mutsuki flung right before his eyes, almost like a ghost, greeted a faint _good morning Urie_ , grabbed a mug ,and made himself coffee. He could feel the heat dispersing from his body still, he could feel the fresh scent of lavender from his shampoo, and his elbow as it brushed his arms trying to fix up the coffee machine. Letting it fill his mug, he leaned against the counter, nibbling the inside on his cheek, eyes fixed somewhere on the other side of the window, fingers tapping occasional taps on the marble. Urie stole a glance at his profile; he really did decide to come home last night as he made his way in past midnight. He didn’t usually stay for long, as each day brought more occupations from the CCG, but the days he decided to stay, Urie anticipated.

His weight had declined since the last time he saw him a month ago, his eyes were unfocused and hazy, his speech more and more limited, his expressions a blank canvas.

“What’s on your mind?” Urie cracked the tense silence, not being able to look at him however.

“Nothing much.” He blurted an answer.

“It’s something though.”

More blank spaces in between.

“Kaneki wanted to meet you last week, but you were on duty. Do you maybe-“

“I’m fine.” His body felt warmer than usually, his voice however, lukewarm.

 

“Is everything okay?”

“It tries.” He grabbed his coffee mug, shot a defeated smile at Urie he tried to force out of himself to crack the tension in his face, and flung out of the kitchen just as lightly as he flung in. His eyes followed him as he left, his body doing the same until he disappeared from his sight. He couldn’t stop him, yet again.


	2. Ephemeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icaSZiwoSD0

The CCG had undergone drastic metamorphosis the last two years. It’s glorious foundations were reduced to more or less, small headquarters after Dragon’s attack. It didn’t smell authority like it used to, although it tried to stand uptight in times of attacks. Its circle however had lost a lot of valuable investigators, leaving space for the young generation to take the wheel of the situation. In the undergrounds however, the young blood of the heirs rushed lively, their naïve voices buzzed, but no one dared to crutch down and eavesdrop. The pulse of the juvenile ensuring its future.

Pushing the main door open, Mutsuki made his presence known to the identification system and paid a visit to the place that could brush some dust off is memory, its archives . His associate special class rank allowed him to access a myriad of information to begin with, but Furuta seemed to have left something similar to a legacy before his suicidal operation went down. A way of breaking the routine security and reaching the core. A kind of passcode.

An associate special class is allowed to access information related to the children of the garden, but nowhere is it mentioned anything related to the mothers, the fathers, the facility that held them, nothing at all. A couple of passcodes away, he was able to access information on statistics, medical files of the women and children, the facility’s maintenance, the children’s education and training, everything. The more documents he tapped on, the more was Furuta’s story solidified, the more his stomach flipped on itself.

The women, they’re reduced to wombs. They’re categorized; exploited if fertile, disposed of if not. The children’s sole purpose of existing is to fight or become future wombs. The fathers, they sit back and watch, or plant their seed and are never to look at it grow. Sisters became mothers to their brothers’ child in oblivion, The men’s offspring have a common father and grandfather. Inbreeding corrodes their genes out. As for rape? It sits cross-legged amongst the ghoul women. It’s a legitimate  right for the Washu men.

Mutsuki stares long and absently at the statistics, quiet breaths shakily moving in and out of his lips. His fingers trembling, his head pounding, eyes burning. It could have been him… hadn’t it….hadn’t it been for the fact that he killed? Everyone? It still feels distant like a scary story he’d eavesdropped from his parents, except he was the scary story and they are gone. He is gone. It could have been him, forced to swallow more screams down his throat, feel more degrading eyes pierce through him, more indifference, more, forever. It could have been him, trying to calm the cries of another being that never asked to be born. It’s gone. They’re ashes and dust, just as he wished to be long ago. But he lives, and as long as he can, he’ll have to make a pact with his demons, until, until it’s over for him too.

* * *

 

“Y-YOU WHAT NOW?” Cried out Hide as he tried to whip his spilled coffee off the table and all over his face.

“Please rephrase that for us Associate Special Class Mutsuki.”Marude added trying to keep his face composed, eyebrows raised in shock and disbelief.

“I know a way we can break into the Sunlit Garden, that I hope you might be familiar with.”

“Ellaborate on everything you know. ”

“The sunlit Garden is a facility located underground on the 24th ward operated by the Washuu clan. Most of the superficial information present it as an institution used to train gifted soldiers as children. This is only accessible to Associate investigators and all the ranks above, so most of the lower ranks who have been unfortunate enough to hear about it treat it as some urban legend.

“Arima Kishou , Ihei Hairu, The Oggai, Squad Zero …all of them, they’re not entirely human. They’re not orphans taken from the street. They’re partially Washuu offspring. They were born and raised here. This facility… it’s not only an educational institution…it’s a womb factory.

“The Washuu clan wants to expand and have plenty of healthy successors to keep the CCG alive, but it also needs soldiers to operate on the front lines and do the dirty work backstage. The women used as wombs for the heirs are either ghouls from the Washuu or other prestige ghoul families. They get directly impregnated by other Washuu heirs…they’re raped. And their children are to be full ghouls, more heirs for the Washuu. The soldiers like Arima and The Oggai, their mothers are human. They’re taken from human trafficking lines, prostitution gangs and are to be impregnated artificially.

“Statistics show most of them die from miscarriages, or during labor. The ones that are infertile are killed.  The ones who try to escape are drugged and become immobile. If they’re lucky enough to have a calm pregnancy, they get to be with their child until they’re three, when they’re sent to the actual educational institution to get trained. Some of the female offspring don’t make it  to the CCG battlefields and become wombs, initiating inbreeding which doesn’t seem to be a big deal for the Washuu. Mutations are common, death from them even more so. This offspring are the V members, the dirty workers. “

A thick silence dispersed after he finished, while Marude held a stiff posture on his seat, muscles tense. Hide, after finished scribbling the last notes, let his pen down, and looked back at the mess of information in front of him, as a wave of distraught overcame his guts.

“…So it wasn’t all a legend. I can’t believe it has been happening right under our noses all these years, decades for me. Thank you for sharing this with us.

“What’s on your mind now?” His gaze lifted up curiously.  

“I could infiltrate underground, hack into the system so you get all the information related to its whereabouts, maps, blueprints, and from that moment on, you get to do the rest. It’s up to you from that moment and on, to plan a raid and infiltrate back in. We won’t have any contact until the preparation for the raid is done and you supposedly arrive. I wish I could do this alone, but I’ll need someone else to accompany me until we arrive. The moment we arrive they’ll take the women I replace, together with the information on how we found its whereabouts, and they will report back at you with everything.”

“Hold on a minute… Y-you’re staying behind?! Why?”

“The number of women is kept track of rigorously. If I replace a lookalike woman, they won’t notice one of theirs left. ”  

“We will have no guarantee over your health there, what if they. Reconsider this Associate.”

“I’ll find a way to dodge that, but if the worst case scenario were to happen, if they were to  impregnate me and I were to give birth, the child is going to be taken care of. Until then, we have plenty of time to feel the gaps in between. I prohibit you from sharing with anyone. Especially the Quinx. They’d be on the way. “

“This is very dangerous for you to undertake alone, we can’t leave you on the hands of the enemy just like that. This operation is not approved of until further discussion.”

Mutsuki breathed out fully, lips pursed.

“Sir, I’ve been left in the hands of much more dangerous enemies than that and survived. It wasn’t …ideal, but I was able to report back.”

The air seemed to feel stiff as a liquid form tension. They  were more than familiar with that case.

“Why..why would you throw your life away for that? “ Hide added, reluctant.

Gulp. Why indeed.

“I was Oggai’s mentor for 6 months, and although I didn’t possess the best judgment then, now I’ve come to a realization that no child should go through want they went through. I myself am not familiar with a happy childhood either, but that’s more reasons for me to do whatever’s in my hand to save what I can.

And I think you too have had plenty of especially talented comrades who have fallen in battlefield pointlessly. Would you be able to sleep tightly at night, knowing everything and still letting it slide under your nose again? We’re all guilty of the CCG’s longevity, whether sucked into blissful ignorance or complete oblivion.”

“…you do have a point ,Associate. We’ll take everything into consideration, and then we’ll let you know of the full details of the operation. Until then, take care. “

“ Likewise.”

* * *

 

Just as he left the office, his attention was drawn to the group of newbies getting a tour around the building led by Saiko’s very lively remarks. They were too carefree, their eyes wandered on every side of the interior carelessly, their auras were not composed and restricted. They shouldn’t be here, he thought. Why were they still keeping the academy alive, why did it keep generating orphan soldiers? He wondered how many of them would accept to undergo the Quinx operation, how many of them would fall on the line absurdly, how many would witness each other’s raw deaths? Nonetheless he walked near them and greeted.

“Mucchy, hello there, didn’t see you around all day at all. Everyone this is Associate Special Class Mutsuki. He’s going to be your lecturer and trainer the last year of the academy. Everyone look forward to meeting him.”

“Good evening ,sensei.” They say as they bow down.

“Hey, everyone.” He could hear mostly all of their comments buzzing in his head already as he passes by them.

  _“Is he the guy that held the meat lump down two years ago?”_

_“Is he even a guy though? He was too soft spoken.”_

_“It’s always the calm ones you dumbass. I bet that got him to be an Associate Special Class, so cool!!”_

_“I heard some people called him a Reaper, but why?”_

_“He was scary dude.”_

_“Hmm, you think?”_

 

 

* * *

 

It was way past midnight when he was finally able to throw his feet groggily back home, his body barely maintaining its balance. He was able to take off his coat which he felt weighed more than his body could cope with, and threw it on the nearest couch. A dim light was left on, the house seemingly asleep, no sound of the living to be heard. The kitchen’s light was on however, and his first thought would be that Saiko was craving ice cream in the middle of the night again. Surprisingly, Urie was the one who seemed to have waken up exactly when he came in for a glass of water that took him 10 minutes to drink. Or maybe, he was waiting on him to come back, something that didn’t take Mutsuki too long to realize.  He felt as if, being on the verge of collapsing, his defenses would do the same and he’d unwillingly plant the doubt seeds related to the operation on Urie, who was the last person he’d wanted to inform. It took him a couple of seconds to wash the very bad scenarios of Urie finding out playing on his head, as he greeted him silently and chugged cold water down his system. He hated to imagine everything, but maybe he wouldn’t be too hurt if he was all the same gone. It had been a while…since he had felt home any place to begin with. What could possibly change if he were gone?

He tried to make his way out to his bedroom, but something similar to a determined hand had already grabbed his wrist, not planning to let go without a reaction from him. He was reluctant to face him.

“Hey, you don’t seem to have eaten dinner, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Maybe try to eat something before bed? It’s not ideal but… you can’t starve yourself like this.”

A short silence seeped between them, before Mutsuki finally faced him. His face showed obvious concern, a reaction he couldn’t just sweep under the rug.  However he still wanted to hold to his decision like an old dog holding on to his last bone. That he could disappear this once with success. Feed himself the idea they wouldn’t possibly mind his absence. Finish what he started years ago.

“Saiko cooked something, but it was edible. So we won’t suffer too much.”

“We?”  

“Just sit down, and relax. I’ll do the rest.”

He felt his eyes pierce with the wet sensation of welling tears. Urie wasn’t fucking helping at all.

 

_“Thank you, Urie.”_

_“Don’t mention it.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the other day i was thinking how this would go down visually ishida's style, and then i realized i miss his drawing style a lot :')  
> Thank you for reading!


	3. All That Remains

Sweat cooled down his skin, sliding down his forehead as he shifted from one side of the bed to the other. He was in a dangerous mode in between the sleeping and awake realm. His arrival back to the conscious was slow and unpleasant, not that he remembered the last time he had a good night sleep. He was used to waking up to his room’s usual set up, only that recently, slowly, it was reduced to walls and empty furniture. A deadly silence dispersed. He could feel his teeth chatter, saliva circulate through his mouth down his throat, his skin making friction with the bed sheets loudly, his fragmented breaths as they made their way in and out of his lips.

 Boxes lined up next to his wardrobe. He was surprised he had some possessions in the first place. Christmas gifts he was given, Christmas gifts he could never gift, Kaneki’s books, picture frames, his old eye patch, Shirazu’s motor keys, more files than he could never keep track of how fast they increase in number like bacteria. However small, they represented him someway. They made his room distinct from an empty lifeless box; they gave it context and made his time living in that room less blurry. Just like children who remember their life events through school years, he could recall everything that would have been otherwise blending with each other on their absence. That was the reason they were lined up to be disposed of in the first place.

It wasn’t exactly morning what he had woken up to, but daylight was visible, the sun on a position he wasn’t used to seeing. That’s when he realized it was his day off, and his body was more conscious of this rare event than his mind. Something similar to a two o’clock flashed on the screen of his phone, making him hiss in discomfort as the light pierced his eyes. At first it was just a normal clock doing routine clock things, ticking seconds away, being very predictable. However what he couldn’t comprehend was the fact that Aura’s number appeared to have called around 5 times in the morning, and then given up. He wanted to feel independent enough to ignore it because his day off was named like that for a reason, but something at the back of his brain told him he was missing something. Something in the lines of “he had asked aura some days ago to meet up and discuss but he slept in so now he’ll need to come up with a good apology to grab him out of work”.

Going down to the kitchen, it was obvious he was the only on having a day off since the house felt dead like never before. He decided to attempt to call Aura back as he made breakfast? Brunch? Yeah. And surprisingly, it didn’t take long to answer.

“Hello? Good morning Mutsuki. How was your sleep?”

“I have become that predictable now, huh?” He could feel his sarcasm very physically land on his ear and smack him.

“I figured it might have been your day off, so I don’t blame you.”

“I’ll buy you lunch? Maybe that fixes something.”

“…That fixes many things. I’ll be out in an hour.”

“Okay, see you then.”

 

* * *

 

 “ I really wish you hadn’t asked me this.”

“I really wished I hadn’t ask you this either, but I needed a trusted man that wouldn’t be a burden. Can you do it? “

“…I need to think about it.”  Aura felt his entire body become cold as he worded a response in his head. Was he really willing to accompany him to the hands of the enemy safely? Was he ready to live with it for god knows how long and never speak a word to the other Quinx? He knew he wasn’t only trying to commit to a mission, he was hoping to be his last mission. And he knew he couldn’t stop him. But he wasn’t ready to trust his safety to anyone not in the Quinx either. His food and decision mixed together in his mouth as he tried to chew the words out.

“I’ll do it. However I’ll make sure you come back. “

“That’s not something you and I can know.” He shot a playful but defeated smile, one which didn’t seem to plant any hopeful seed on the conversation. He got up from their table, paid his bill that he promised, and greeted him goodbye.

His way back home was accompanied by the afterglow of the 5pm sky, audaciously trying to impress the pedestrians as they all minded their business of wrapping their bodies with their jackets and shoving their freezing hands in its pockets. It had passed a long time since he had willingly looked up the sky for the sake of simply gazing. Looking up was mostly an instinctive movement to notice weather changes and the time passing before they could investigate safely. He couldn’t have found a good reason to look up then. Not that he had one now.

No one was home yet and it made him feel off kilter. Not that he didn’t know when they were supposed to be off, but something about day offs that weren’t spent mostly sleeping or being accompanied sent him in a state of complete dissociation, a moment of absence from his own body, unsolicited and somehow psychedelic. His own room was half emptied now, just a few boxes left behind and the only backpack he’d need on his way. It almost felt inhabitable and abandoned, asphyxiating and washed off of anything that made it authentic. However it seemed to have been impregnated with a smell he never thought he’d feel its texture against his nostrils again.  It’s origin wasn’t exactly stemming from his room, rather the neighboring one which seemed to have been left ajar.

He stepped inside the room with the strong smell, and it would have been no other than Urie’s turpentine and oil paints that always lured him in, as if behind the origin resigned a form of serenity he could touch and steal for himself like a gem. He knew that was the only way he could feel some type of comfort, the only one he would allow himself to feel. One that blended out the tinnitus in his head, that somehow allowed him to have a taste, however small, of a home without rotten roots. Just like his possessions, it allowed him to make his memory a little more lucid. It was an antic that remained from their old days. A reminiscence of Urie’s remote self, of his remote self. Of the Auction Raid, of the Christmases and the summers and the days off and the days on they spent together. Of the times he would sneak peak at him sketchbook or watch him paint. The dissolvent smelt toxic and strong, but its fumes danced around his head to a lullaby he wouldn’t mind feeling drowsed by. He sat on the wooden floor, back against the cold bed frame, knees hugged tight near him, as his eyes surrendered to the unconscious. The cold metallic surface of the tube smooth on his fingers.

His mind wouldn’t rest still however, as it had already occupied his head with a life he wished would have lasted just a little longer. A life in which Shirazu forced Urie to drink sweet bean soups more often, in which Saiko refused to wake up for work until evening, in which Urie still despised Haise for leaving meat uncooked. Maybe mundane and unoccupied by much, but it somehow seemed to have been drawn with lucid colors and warmth, vividness even though behind closed doors on his head.

 

He felt a certain warmth crack consciousness back to his being, a warmth he didn’t remember he brought upon himself before he accidentally fell asleep. Sleeping  under more blankets he was used to,  Mutsuki recognized he was still in Urie’s room, somehow tucked on his bed, food resting on the nightstand, the turpentine less intense from the slightly cracked balcony door. He wished he could ignore the fact that he was practically surrounded by his scent, that he more or less had to carry him here, that he had embarrassingly fallen asleep on his room like that, but he decided to take it as a goodbye gift. Something he could hold on too. A possession he couldn’t throw away. 


	4. and in my head I said goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo exams are over it's time for sin children  
> (i have never written anything this uuhh,, nsfw and it's not my thing so please don't hurt me, mmkay, enjoy :')) )

It was evening enough for Urie to maybe feel lightheadedness from dehydration after training for hours, but it sure wasn’t late enough for him to stumble on his feel, he could feel that much. Just as he was giving his scalp a quick massage with eyes unfocused on his steps, a box or two had cut his walk to his room. They seemed to be near Mutsuki’s room, and just as he tried to make out their presence, he spotted him climb the stairs, unaware of his presence until he witnessed him. He felt caught red handed, but not enough to let suspicion arise, he hoped.

“Oh… Urie, you’re back already.”  Mutsuki grabbed the boxes from the floor, completely ignoring Urie’s curious stare at them, as he wished he could woosh away from his calculating sight faster than his guilt already building up. Avoidant. _No eye contact, don’t look at him, lielielie li e_

“I was just about to head off…Umm, if you’re hungry, I managed to cook something.” It wasn’t too much on the fact that he willingly started a small talk, or on the fact that the boxes seemed too heavy to handle. Something itched in Urie’s gut and he wished he could ignore it. Ignore how he passed him with an assassin’s light step, how he didn’t say another word, how his eyes were unfocused,  how he instinctively grabbed his arm and couldn’t spill anything to justify it. A thin veil of tension cut through the space between them, only one couldn’t put a finger  to the elephant in the room, while the other wished to wiggle it out of the their space.

He couldn’t even turn his way to ask, or make out his expression. Gaze away from him, he couldn’t look at him, only a silhouette, someone he believe he wanted to call to. He just lowered his gaze and hand slowly and breathed an apology before leaving him be with his rushing heartbeat, lips agape and shaky.  Deep breath in. Slow breath out. He couldn’t go back anymore.

Down stairs was where Urie  headed off to chew on the confusion that filled his headspace. A familiar heartburn-like anxiety he feared the comeback of, a sort of distant scream that seemed to disperse vaguely in his head, only he couldn’t make out the words. In his subconsciousness the traces of past experiences pulsed as if they were to give a sign, only denial ate up much of his headspace to notice. He notices the oh so familiar patterns, Mutsuki’s light presence, light voice, everything so light and traceless. His fingers now on autopilot, felt the piercing cold of the glass of water he had mindlessly grabbed, as it filled and spilled out.

“Uri… yo Uri…hey what’s up?” Saiko broke the silence in the kitchen, as she raised her head from the comic she was indulged in.

He continued to gulp down mouthfuls of water, very obviously placing his sight past any human focus, as he slowly but surely zoned out. He let the water make it way down, took a lungful and sighed.

“Just a weird gut feeling. Don’t worry about it.”

“What about?”

“I don’t know yet. It’s probably false alarm. Maybe from lack of sleep. “

“I sure hope so too.” She added, directing her attention back to her manga, suspicious but relaxed.

* * *

 

Each day that passed, the plan of infiltration was even more lucid, the steps confidently clearer, as he absentmindedly convinced himself of how fine everything would be on his absence. How he’d smoothly wiggle out of everyone’s lives as if nothing existed beforehand, a feather blown by the wind never to have occupied much space in the first place. Him and Aura had gone over everything with Marude and Hide enough to run it on his dreams on loop. They always tried to reassure him he’d survive, that he’d come back, that he’d be able to adjust back to this life. He felt like a pathetic martyr, everything he didn’t want to be. Egoistic. Self centered. That’s what he heard his spirits tell him when he first pulled a knife against his neck. The least he could do now was be of some help while at it. Not egoistic. This is fine. He wanted to believe.

His  sleep was occupied by a mechanical repetition of each step of the mission, only to wake up with a sense of distraught, nausea, defeat, cold sweat. Once he dreamed of his absence, dreamed of Saiko’s sadness, Urie’s anxiety and maybe…he though this were just his needy spirits speaking, still wanting to be loved, needed. It didn’t matter. All in vain.

All disregarded, all swallowed down dissolved in guilt.

Early that morning, was the time. No distractions. All sentiments out. Room devoid. Mind cleared out. Or so he wished.

He was just about to zip the last zip in his backpack. And call it a life. However a certain trail of smell kept tying its claws round his ankles and neck and it nuzzled down his jawline and caressed each and every nerve ending on his nostrils rather demanding but gentle. Noxious but sweet. This time, amongst the cold vacancy of his room now completely devoid of anything indicating life, it messed with his sanity ,rather not so sweet or light. It was a concentrated dose of it penetrating each and every layer of his sobriety, dominating his senses and his room’s void. It was a natural response for him to back off, ground feet to the floor, force the core of his body to pull away from gravitating back to the familiarity of that scent.

But he failed to ignore the signature of that smell, and it light-headedly dragged his feet to Urie’s ajar door.

_Go backgoback gobackgo back unnecessary go back go back cut all ties goback_

 He tensed a reluctant fist to knock, knowing very well Urie had probably felt his presence behind his door by now. His knocks were timid and far between. Breaths almost absent.

_Go back_

 “Come on in.” diffused Urie’s low voice.  

He poked a shy head in his room, curiously checking on him. His room was barely lit by the night sky relying mostly on the nightstand light near his canvas.

“So you really were painting after all.”

“Did the smell spread around again? Sorry bout that.”

Mutsuki threw lights steps across his room, closing the door behind him, as he sat at the edge of his bed, one leg hanging out, fingers cold and numb. Voice velvet and small.

“I uh, actually like it…the smell.” Upon hearing his voice articulate, his hand working details on his piece ceased to move, a certain curiosity gradually teasing him.

“That’s a first. How so?”

“I don’t really have a logical explanation for that, it’s just…comforting I guess. It’s your brand.” He let out a faint chuckle, before going back to reticence.

“My brand is a toxic dissolvent. That’s…impressive of me.” He rephrased wittily trying to bring his obviously down spirits, up. He placed his small brush on the nearest stand and took a seat near him on his bed.

“Don’t you ever think you could have been an artist and spared yourself all the killing for a living? Having a choice, that’s…that’s a privilege. “

“Well, I’d have probably starved to death had I not been in any luck. Besides they’re far from good  to make money from.”

“Well, you don’t know that… I’d buy your art believe it or not.” His tonality changed to a little more teasing, and you could listen to the smile hiding between his lips. Demeanor somehow vanquished but specks of satisfaction stained his lips.

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind then.” A smile escaped from his lips as well.

 “… What about you, what would it have been if not the CCG?”

 _“_ I don’t even…I don’t think I’d be alive had I not been under their custody. But I wish I had had a choice to even think about it.“  He paused himself in the middle of his pace, as he reached his own hand  near his nose, taking a deep breath.

“It stinks of blood. And I haven’t been in a mission in a month. It has seeped to the bone and I can’t rub anymore cleansing scented solution …shit …things on them. I could try to live a clean life, but the records on my body tell otherwise, and I can’t just ignore them.”

Just as he lowered his hand, he took the hand of the man opposite him intertwined in his, slowly bringing it near his face, as it cooled down his already blushed but invisibly so cheek. His deep breath, however faint, managed to disturb the perfect stillness of the atmosphere between them.

“It’s just paint. Maybe just a little metallic, but it’s concealed well. In a few months time it will be gone if you take a break. While you could have a chance for a peaceful life outside the CCG, I don’t. So it’s better if you-“ Resigned? Left while he was away? Forgot?

He could have sworn the tears welling up his vision would have never made their way out had it not been for Urie’s forehead pressing not too friendly against his. Gaze firm, hand now resting intertwined on his thigh.

“I can’t tell what’s really up with you these days, but quit blaming yourself for things out of your control. Just as you’ve killed, I have. We’d be dead if we didn’t. “ Voice frustrated, it seemed to be soaked in a repressed anger and desperation.

“It would be abnormal not to feel guilt. And…everyone if they could escape, it would have been  hard to adjust to a peaceful life. I too…wish to find an opportunity to resign, but it would be useless if I did it alone. Will you resign with me, all of us?“  Mutsuki tried to hold his gaze with the same fierce intensity; however it shifted to his lips more than usually. He saw them morph after each word and tried to swallow down a truthful answer, as his hot breaths pierced his skin.

Their heat merging into one as the space between their lips condensed shakily.

“I don-“ He was unable to finish his confession fortunately for him, from his sprinting pulse in his temples and the labored breaths that were bit by bit hermetically isolated in their crushing lips.  It was shorter than a heartbeat the moment they tasted only slightly the surface of the opposing lips, ceased to touch for a glance of approval ,and upon making out the desperation on the opposing eyes, drifting back to being one, this time breathless and hungry.

It felt like a breaking point for both, like two glass bottles crashing on one another. Nasal breaths burning skin to skin, their guts flipping, as they tied themselves into a acerbic knot that once in a while throbbed. Their eyes met as they grasped for air and he could make out a male gaze, a man looking at him with want, a man that wanted to touch him. But it wasn’t invading, it wasn't spontaneous, driven by instinct to quench a momentarily thirst. It wasn’t blindly seeking, always taking. He wasn’t peaking at the object of use to check whether it still lived.  He was looking at him, right through him. Conscious. Eyes lucid and focused in his. He followed his steps, complementary. Not his dance. Theirs.

 Mutsuki could already feel the repressed guilt building up once again in his throat, as it soaked in the moans he desperately tried to keep hold of, but failed.  He reached the nap of his neck, undercut piercing the butt of his hand as heat descended from his cheeks to his gut ,and down his pelvis.

Urie could feel the pace of his lips hurry as each breath was a second closer to something Urie couldn’t comprehend. All the enigma he wore as a coat, everything he repressed and hid from everyone and himself, it built a sense of restlessness and frustration he couldn’t ease unless he knew. But he knew, under thick skin and muscle, there resigned a soul he could love without being fully aware on how it got to be. The eyes opposite him sought his presence just as much as he did and that eased him back to a less intense pace.

Cold fingers traced ghost-like from his waist up his torso, as he felt them flinch to the touch of his binder from under his shirt  that he wished he’d already been relieved from. It took the cold fingers another round around his back before they considered taking the shirt off, lips locked as his eyes flung back up for more reassurance . Before he knew it Mutsuki had already  helped himself off his shirt and proceeded to lock Urie down, mouths tied as their tongues made their first rather shy appearance. Hand locked on his thigh, Urie could sense a rather swift pressure building up where their cores pressed, not as much from Mutsuki’s weight than his rapid shifting from his focal point. He felt his fingers friction against his chest as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, and just as he was done, he felt Urie’s torso slowly ascend to take it completely off before it now locked the smaller man down.

 It baffled Urie how days ago he saw him always slip away, finding creaks he could diffuse from him like smoke, and now he laid just under him, lips swollen from something they both initiated, eyes glassy with a melancholia he couldn’t comprehend just yet. But he was there and willing to love each curve and edge of his body together with his scars. Both hands entwined to Urie’s, body heat mingling, Mutsuki felt phantom lips nibble at the back of his ear , down his neck to the scars in his collarbone that felt exceptionally tender, as gentle shivers escaped his body, chilled to the bone. Among heavy breaths and blurred vision, he sensed his hand taking its time to stroke the surface of his abdomen, fell the texture of the other scars running down his belly as it almost reached the heat between his legs, throbbing now not too gently. His chilled fingers left a goosebumped trace behind, one that made each and every nerve end jump and twitch.

His pace, almost painfully slow, made his hips itch with a need that built up frantically, making him almost lightheaded.

And then his breath hitched. Sharp and sudden.  No breath seemed to circulate in his lungs now. No pressure to force his lungs up and down. Just like a popped bubble of puss, a sizzling anxiety seeping through his brain and devoured his sobriety.  He felt a certain numbness plague his fingers as it desensitized every tissue, one cell at a time. His heart pulsing now had dissolved down his fingers while they seemed to throb each time blood crashed on his bloodstream. What was made out of Urie was just a blurry figure of what he was, and tears welled up his eyes, jaw shaky from chilled bones. He wanted to… he forced his body to pull its soul back in and not ruin what had bloomed between them but every time he tried to force air in, acid boiled up his sternum and he couldn’t see and somehow Urie was trying to talk to him. Urie?... Who?!

_Tooru, just a little longer okay ,sweetheart? You’re just like a princess, so cute ahahahah the cutest._

“Hey!”

_Tooru be quiet_

_You are so perfect. Mine._

“Mutsuki, hey, look at me,”

_Respect me_

Clock-ticking sounds dispersed in his headspace. He saw Urie, yeah, it really was Urie, or better he could hear his voice vivid now, he could feel a weird warmth that wasn’t virulently  tearing his from the inside or scarred him all around, it didn’t blister when it touched. It wrapped around him fuzzy and familiar and rocked his small defenseless body gently and it drew orbs on his bare back and it wasn’t asking for anything in return. When he felt his body claim itself back from autopilot, he was being held like a newborn, as he now reached his arms out to Urie’s back. His arms, legs too wrapped around his waist, they were his, he could claim them too. He wasn’t feeling anything he could categorize as hurt, agony.  And for whatever reason he couldn’t comprehend, he was kept safe, he wanted to hold onto it. Not question it. Just embrace it. Him.

“I’m sorry ,Urie I didn’t mean to… I just-“ His voice making its way out into a whimper. His chest lifting up and down trying to regulate his breaths back to normality. It felt unfit, not enough space for the breaths he needed, worn out, inadequate.

“Hey, look at me. “ It took him a while to grab the weight of his gaze from the ground to the man opposite him, his eyes calling him, digging his soul out, not the physical him that started to gains senses back, but the one that hid and repressed and hurt in solitude that knocked at the back of his head once in a while. He wanted him to wake up from the slumber of despair. And hear him speak. Talk to him. His eyes gradually awakened, gaining their life back. He was back. Urie tucked green wet bangs with his thumb away from his face, as if they somehow blurred the vision of that Mutsuki. The one locked in his eyes.

“ It’s fine. Everything’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. ”  He saw his glacial orbs become glassy as they melted away, one tear at a time. Because he could see Urie too in his brown orbs, the one he first met, the one that like him needed a shelter, a safe space, a place to grow. And it’s like their infantile selves met somewhere in their blink-long distance between their eyes. Like they could properly introduce themselves now to each other, with all their bruised limbs and scarred thoughts. They weren’t their ranks, or their past, or their mistakes. Just them, and their humanity reaching out to survive.

“Thank you for not hurting me.” He chuckled softly, remaining tears slide down his cheek as he leaned on Urie’s forehead again,  their breaths synchronized. He cupped his face, thumb touching his moles, a couple of nose bumps away from brushing lips again. At that moment could Urie see the traces of his tears halfway through his cheek, his almost blissfully serene expression, sense their breaths becoming one again as their lips gravitated towards each other, taking their time to feel their lungs with each other’s scent.

“Wait you..(should rest… I don’t mind)

“Please, I want to…i-if you do too” He responded just as breathless. They collided into one. 

* * *

 

He felt his senses sublimate back to their solid state, as they laid down, arms tugged around each other, heat still lingering around their limbs covered in sweat. He felt reality check force him to resurface to his fate, where he had to leave everything behind. He should be leaving soon, but the weight of Urie on him made him hold longer into their embrace, because he could evaporate anytime before he felt like he lived enough. Except he would evaporate away from him forever. He could feel his nose nuzzle under his chin in an oblivious sleep, a few child-like whimpers escaped him unconsciously.

It wasn’t much he though, only something of each other they could cherish as the last of each other. He pulled him closer. A proper goodbye gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell i have an inherent tendency to fill up all the space i could describe smut with looootsoo angst and fluff bc that's what the writing gods have assigned me to do (i edited some stuff in and out but not major) 
> 
>  


	5. Seek and you shall never find

His alarm broke the perfect silence in his room with an aggressive ring. His body jerked up, the sound adding up to his sate of exhaustion and confusion.  Monday. 5 a.m. His skin felt tight from the evaporated sweat, head foggy until his tape rewound, and just as fast as a warm comfort settled in him, an almost reflexive apprehension took its place. It almost felt like dream, everything felt too light, too unreal, pieces of it absent.

Just like the person on other side of the bed.

After that sudden bursts of unease, came reason trying to soothe its edges reflexively. After all he didn’t really have a reason to be like that, no? He knew enough of Mutsuki to recognize his calls for independence, and perhaps leaving ahead was one of them. There wasn’t much to contemplate, he wanted to believe. Starting the week completely oblivious of a weird gut feeling lurking  however, wasn’t ideal for Urie Kuki. It was equivalent to checking the weather, and the news, and all that generic jazz one needed to know to survive through the metropolis. Without that knowledge at the front of his head he did feel somehow exposed. In the wild. He threw it at the back of his head  once again however, as he hopped out of bed in the shower.

He couldn’t quite remember much of what he rewound, except that whatever signal he endlessly, helplessly sent out in hope of being illegible, didn’t disperse in thin air. Mutsuki did notice, he did have an illegible response to send out, however it seemed to have been repressed for a long time, and whatever was out, brought relief on both sides. Then curiosity, yearning ,then unsolicited fear and comfort. Comfort. He snorted in relief. He had never witnessed him like that. He had seen him raw on battlefield, he had witnessed his lies, his sadness, his loneliness at times he was too. His will to live, longing for death, anger, compassion, helplessness, care.  But he had never witnessed him be this willingly vulnerable to him-with him. He wanted to trust, even though it was harder for him more than anyone. And Urie wanted to give him that, a place he could be vulnerable, just like he was to him back then.

Dripping from a shower too cold for human comprehension, he managed to grab the nearest towel, wrap himself and as he was about to leave, he noticed an eyepatch, Mutsuki’s eyepatch, resting on the countertop. It was a routine for Mutsuki to put it on despite the fact that practically everyone knew who and what he was. Except not today. Strange indeed.  

The kitchen was surprisingly noisy, despite Saiko swearing more than he can count how she wouldn’t cook in the morning unless it was an emergency, and apparently, to her it was.

“Explain yourself Sai-GOD what did you burn?”

“Hear me out, I was a dummy last night. Slept very late hoping Mucchan would cook in the morning so I could sleep just a liiittle more. Turns out he left too early, and now I’m trying to rush a burned egg down my stomach knowing I’ll be half an hour late. “ That was a very good rehearsed response from her, but the kitchen smelling wasn’t what was really concerning him at the moment.

“(Thank god her room is on the other side of the hall.) I see. “

“Uh, why are you holding his eyepatch though?” She tried to pull her bangs back with the back of her hand, frustrated.

“(yeah Urie why?) He..had..accidentally dropped it. I’ll give it to him at the meeting. And don’t make us too late.”

“Sir yes sir.” She said under her breath.

Maybe too many questions weren’t necessary for the moment, but he couldn’t help but wonder why he had ditched the morning coffee home too. Urie noticed unwillingly that a couple of post-its he had left were missing, mostly of days and hours he would be home or not. Old ones. And the phone number from his office. A couple of recipes he’d left for them when he wasn’t around remained though. Not very usual, he’d say.

The first two hours of the day went by without any of his trace, and Urie had to restrain himself from dropping whatever paperwork occupied his time and check on his office. “Patience” he though. The meeting is in 30 minutes. Then he’d know for sure.

He arrived exceptionally early in the meeting room, table completely empty, conditioned air blowing on him rather unnecessarily, here and there having curious glances thrown at him through the glass walls. He threw a glance at his hand watch, just about time everyone would assemble. Marude was the first to break the silence.

“Good morning Associate Special Class Urie. Happy to see you punctual as ever.“  

“Good morning, sir.”

Almost every place got occupied; even Saiko arrived earlier than expected. Hideyoshi, Koori were the last to take their seat. Not him. Mutsuki was never late in meetings.

”Since we have all settled let us start, shall we?”

“I bet Associate Special Class Mutsuki would be delighted if we’d wait on him since he’s usually waiting on us, no?”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you Associate. He’s not attending today.” And it got weirder. That didn’t go without a reaction from Urie’s side, who forced himself however to leave the questioning for later.

Information was exchanged; some useful, mostly boring as he counted every minute away before the clock stroke 11 gradually. And just as every one of them entered, so did they leave, Marude somehow waiting on Urie’s next movie. Just as instructed. Collecting all his documents, he rose from his seat and approached Marude who knew just too much too well.

“You seem to anticipate me Special Class  Marude. Anything I should know?”

He smirked. “I praise your sharpness like always. I’m guessing you’re concerned about Mutsuki.” Urie nodded, eyes curious following his response.

 “He anticipated your concern as well. I’m afraid he’ll be absent for a period of at least 8 months due to requesting a sabbatical leave. He wished to keep everything else private for now. “

“(Fucking sabbatical leave??) I didn’t know Investigators were illegible of sabbatical leaves around here. ” And it blew on his face just like that. Suspicion hit first. Concern second.

“He had requested it for a while now. He has made an excellent contribution to the CCG  for years and the least we could do is give him a break. I’m guessing you have noticed just how busy he has been recently.”

“(as if he sent himself on missions willingly) I hope you’re right, Special Class.” His mouth tried to hold back any form of obvious questioning as he felt it would just lead him to a dead end. However his suspicion managed to reach his gaze, as it pierced through Marude very obviously in irritation from lack of answers.

“Good day.”

 _He wished to keep everything else private for now._ Very Mutsuki indeed.

He left the meeting room in a fast pace trying to catch up to Saiko who he could feel was already heading to get some food through excited steps towards the cafeteria. Because Saiko.

“Yonebayashi, we need to talk.”

“O shit, your Squad Leader alter just showed up it gave me chills for a moment.”

“I’m not screwing around. It’s about Mutsuki. I just talked with Marude. “ That seemed to slower her pace as she gave him a worried glance.

“What did he say?”

“His absence wasn’t random today. According to him he had requested a sabbatical leave. He’ll be gone for a long time.”

“Wait what? You can request sabbatical leaves here? He never talked about any sabbatical leave before.” She said as she sat down on the cafeteria.

“Right, he never mentioned anything. Yet again, he didn’t really talk much lately.” He stared hard at the table they sat on, as it he could decipher some sort of answer there.

“How long will he be away?”

“Marude said at least 8 months. That’s the longest paid leave you can get, however ‘at least’ didn’t really indicate that.”

“Maybe he really wanted a break from everything, even from us. Shouldn’t we trust his decisions?”

He pressed his thumb numb hoping it would distract him. Once. Twice.

“(then why did he…) Maybe so.”

 

* * *

 

Heading back at the chateau, he kicked himself out of his coat and smacked his back right at the nearest couch not too lightly. At the moment he was devoid of anything to justify his leave; he couldn’t really make out a logical rout that he’d think would lead Mutsuki to that conclusion. That apprehension he hated to recognize, it was back with a vengeance and it danced around his head, it made his stomach pulse, and it tried to dull out any form of logical explanation for anything. There wasn’t much sense, much context he could put to that at the moment, not with his current foggy headspace. He was used to not meeting him for a long time when they were both busy with on missions; he was used to his short disappearances and reappearances, but he never thought he’d willingly request to leave for reasons other than missions. He tried to wipe confusion and fatigue away from his face with his hands but that didn’t seem to help much. He really wanted to trust him, he knew he could trust him, but why was his logic diluted in unease now?

The clock ticked away till midnight. It didn’t sit right with him. 11:57. He remembers the last time he disappeared for the longest from the chateau. He was Oggai’s mentor. And after that? He behaved differently. Which lead to? Violence. How he missed Sasaki. How he missed the way everything used to be. Dragon. How he was lonely, the way he attacked him. Revolt and helplessness. Deprivation. How he wished he didn’t survive. How he wished he was killed by him. How he wished he was never born. Then the knives.

Almost the end. 11:58.

He unlocked his phone, scrolled to his number and gave it a short ring. _The number you have called does not exist._ You wouldn’t throw your number away if you planned to come back, now would you? At that moment a rush of heat occupied his muscles as he runs upstairs to his room.

11.59 .First glance of the door, closed as per usual. It was unlocked and what he was about to find out, he hated to anticipate.  The room was devoid of any trace of previous life. It’s air awkward. No furniture, no possession. Those boxes he felt suspicious of three miles away but avoided to confront weren’t what he assumed “unnecessary possessions”. They were all his possessions. The way his sight unfocused away from their conversation when they talked as he seemed to enter a different realm of thought, the way he flashed in and out of his sight, wiggled away from him and his questions, uneasy, distressed, sleep-deprived. That night together, when he felt his tears slide down his back, then pulling him closer. 00.00 His knees wiggled in frailty, as their weight crushed into the ground, shock intertwining with his fatigue.

Whatever he had been plotting, whatever trip he’d gone to, he really made sure to not come back. No 8 months. No ticket back. Gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for still sticking around, i really appreciate your comments/kudos uwu


	6. Solivagant

It reeked of decaying metropolis. Everything that it flushed as a waste it now dissolved in the sewage streaming down just near his feet. He clasped his raincoat, hoping it would even just a little keep the odor away. He should have gotten used to it by now, since two weeks had passed since him and Aura had taken the quest of finding The Garden’s whereabouts upon themselves. However it still made his stomach flip with a nausea he hadn’t experienced before. It didn’t arouse disgust like blood did before, nor distraught like when he killed a living being for the first time, nor  abhorrence staring at his face in the mirror as he wiped more blood from his face, hands, clothes after missions. It felt like his insides where shifting. Maybe the odor was that strong for him now, maybe they were getting close to some bigger drainage.

The underground was a city of its own. However decaying it reeked, there were signs of life here and there of people who maybe managed to escape from there, maybe not. People who chose to live there, who ended there by accident, people who thrived there. The concrete laid humid and hard against his feet, as his stomach liquefied with each step. There was graffiti of people’s names, slurs against ghouls, slurs against humans, against the CCG, normal things graffiti do. It seemed like it would burst on a riot any minute and chew on them, as water trickled here and there.  He just hoped Aura had memorized somehow the rout they were taking for his own sake. He himself however…

It corroded him hollow. How he didn’t really feel like he left. Even though he threw away his possessions, even though his room is just walls and foundation, he still left behind something he had no right to take from them. Memories. Memories he feels even if he had the ability to rip from their brain, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Because however lonely he felt as he drifted away from them, the sweet sweet fragments of dreams they shared, they brought upon him a piece of humanity he would never get to taste otherwise. However bureaucratic and formalized and fake and sad their jobs were, he still managed to enjoy their make-belief family, and their make-belief home. Because they all sought comfort out of emptiness. Hopeless teenagers in need of shelter. Hopeless adults in need of stability. A home.

He too craved to feel loved, wanted. He craved attention and that space everyone had formed in their head intentionally or not of his memory, and maybe just someone asking about his day. Underneath the self-hatred and the longing to disappear, a residue of his humanity pulsed with life and made him feel like he mattered to someone, that he wasn’t a passenger. He longed for all of it, only he felt deserving of none. And whatever Urie was able to see in him, he hoped he could rely on for just a little longer, as one of his last possessions that reminded him of his humanity.

The moment he senses the air changing a bit, he feels in that slight second a pair of arms grab him in a headlock. His senses were fading in an out as that slight second was occupied by more than he could comprehend in that state. His nausea started to become more and more lively as he finally unlocked himself from the attacker who didn’t take too long to get up again in self defense. They could have been a ghoul going for a hunt running on their own hunters; they could have been a human in need for money and food. Their face hidden. Whoever that average headlock belonged to, they were unfortunate enough to be a rather harmful witness to the mission. Whatever anticipated them was nothing less than death which Mutsuki didn’t take long to conduct, rather absentmindedly however. Routines. Part of the routine was that he never saw the faces of whatever he killed, but curiosity was pushing him to break his routine for once. And what he found was strangely a woman, a ghoul, too pale to have been nourished in a long time, wearing something very regulated, a uniform of some sort. _An escapee_.

Which meant they could be close.

And she was innocent.

“What’s gotten into you? You never take that long to unlock yourself.” Ask Aura as he hurried to throw the body down the drainage. That was what he could ask for now, but even though he was never “the nose” of the squad, he could differentiate an alter in his usual scent. The metallic smell was there, however not characteristic.

“I’m not sure. Maybe the human food is slowing me down. “ And that’s what he really wished to believe. He couldn’t handle any health issues given that he needed to finish what he started. Whatever was dying to make him sick could come next.

But whatever was making him sick gave no sign of hesitation as the face of the woman, white and pallid, had been engraved on his memory for more that he usually allowed himself to. It circulated around his headspace as his heartburn corroded his guts, aggressively elevating and his breaths condensed each moment he could taste both acid and alkaline in his mouth. He wasn’t able to balance himself out anymore before his knees crushed to the ground and let whatever had been sailing in his guts out, aggressive and nagging. He thought he could retain his normality after letting the devil out, but still, he lingered. It made his breaths shorten, his limbs numb out, his hands shaky. Among shaky breaths he struggled to remember his last cycle.

Aura didn’t take too long to approach, dead worried. He knew how human food sickness felt and this was not any of what he had experienced. The smell around was gut wrenching indeed, but not enough to actually wrench your guts. He reached out to his backpack and grabbed a tissue and water, handing it to him. What was left to assume, out of knowing almost everything Mutsuki had allowed him to know about him, was what Aura had been dreading to conclude from all the unavoidable hints.

Something, someone was potentially growing in him as he brought himself back from that panic attack, as the acrid saliva corroded down his throat, as he slowly came closer to death. A baby, like a sign of some sort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))


	7. return of the cold

Tin cans clinked against each other in his plastic bag as he ambled down the pavement, taking a turn at the cemetery. It should have been a normal day for Urie to jog his soul out this early in the morning. The mist oozed around still as the sun had just cracked the sky open. Instead he felt like talking. It had been a while since he had visited Shirazu, or whatever remained of him. Five whole years had gone by since he passed, however it took him some time to accept that he had to visit a piece of cement, remains he didn’t believe resided there. He’d see Mutsuki drag Saiko out of her bed depressed to go visit him 6 months after he passes, but only gave Urie an understanding stare when they left. The more distant he grew from the chateau, the more rare were his visits accompanied by anyone. He’d catch glimpses of him at the cemetery alone, but never really interrupted him. Knowing he still cared gave him some type of comfort to secretly hope he’d come back to them, to him. But that only Shirazu knew, or rather his headstone.

He didn’t spend two cents of a thought before he crushed his bottom on the wet grass near his grave, as he laid a can of red bean soup and beer against the concrete. He didn’t know where to begin. While he  collected his thoughts, he cracked the beer can open and chugged down a couple of mouthfuls. He puffed in discomfort, lips curling in bitterness. He still hated it. This was among the things Shirazu had “forced”, or rather, he had tried out of curiosity, to drink when their solo investigations went to shit. He had watched his face whither in disgust just like now, as the alcohol marched down his throat. And of course tease him forever because who wouldn’t tease a nobel self-righteous asshole for breaking the law and drinking underage. He never approached alcohol again, except the mild one in the CCG parties. Because “It wasn’t his jazz”, because “it would slow him down”, because (he had enough unhealthy ways to cope with stuff). Chugging down a couple more mouthfuls on empty stomach, he let the liquid sit still on his stomach, placed the can on the concrete, shifted his legs on a comfortable position crossed, and let the 5am silence seep in.

“I still hate this you know. And the damned soup. Never put it in my mouth again since then. But you somehow liked it so, guess your lunch is on me today.

“Work’s been shit, the craft shop in the neighborhood closed down and moved 30 minutes away from here, you’re lucky you don’t have to see whatever’s going on with the CCG now. There’s more new quinx coming soon, as if I didn’t have enough kids to deal with already. Saiko has been doing most of the talking, she really know how to approach them. She has a good portion of responsibilities, you wouldn’t recognize her. Except cooking. Nothing changed. But they’re not as hard as we were to Haise. He had some steel patience there…and by the way his daughter is two…and she already makes a face when I visit, because… I stink …of paint …all the time. And that barista you crushed on for a while? That’s his wife.

“You’re sister is doing great. She will be out of the hospital in a month or so, that’s what Shiba told us. Now that her face has cleared out you really look like twins. She misses you a lot… your sister.

“I found your old motorcycle keys somewhere, thought some of us had thrown them away, they just popped out of nowhere in the key holder.  Maybe Mutsuki found them…” He needed a longer lungful of a pause before he could…tackle that, him, them.

“Mutsuki…he …disappeared again. And you’d think I should have gotten used to it by now, but umm…it’s hard. I-I love him… that’s why it’s that hard.“ His lips curved up in a sad smile, eyes fixed, collecting thoughts from thin air.

“This is probably not surprising to you, I’ve been guilty of that for a long time…and  it’s um… scary. To tell someone you love them. I really couldn’t back then, and I still haven’t…properly. I really am a big coward, you know, you weren’t that wrong after all. But he knows, and…I guess uhh wasn’t rejected either? We could say that… “ He chuckled silently with more than a mild layer of embarrassment but proud still, on his face.

“But him disappearing it’s not like every other time. Marude said sabbatical leave… I don’t buy it, but I have no other option but to believe it. It looked like…from the little things and the big picture…he didn’t want to come back this time around. I don’t have a choice but to accept that, I just…I hope he’s alive…and okay. I do miss him already. Whenever he comes back, if he comes back, i’ve  been thinking of retiring together, all of us. I don’t see a point anymore. Whatever CCG wanted to offer us, never really helped anyone. And maybe… you really were lucky in the end…” He grabbed the can to chug down the remaining beer.

“I’m leaving the soup here so you don’t come posses the fridge or anything ,okay? …Really please don’t, you’re going to scare the kids away…

“I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

 

Water droplets echoed in the endless corridor. Maybe it was morning, maybe sometime earlier. Relying only on his handwatch to guess the position of the sun amongst the living sure was an experience. A corner that seemed to look “cosier” and “safer”— as cozy and safe you could feel in the damned sewage— was where they decided to spend the night , or whatever that was. They took turns to guard each other, his eyes however were too lucid to even consider sleep anytime soon. He felt his stomach rumble in hunger, but whatever food he could afford to digest at the moment were CCG manufactured food. Pathetic.

He shifted into his sleeping bag, releasing a groan from a lot of things cramping, from his legs to his back and stomach. He leaned against the humid wall. How did his body, the body he tried as much to submerge in that masculinity that gave him oh such sweet comfort with the certain reality checks once a month, how was it suddenly making space for a new life while he had been barely affording his? How was it trying to nurture a being he knew it couldn’t afford mentally? How-

Submerged in muddled thoughts and sleep-deprivation ,he thought back that time. How long ago was it? His sense of time was deteriorating each sunless day. He could still feel Urie’s slender fingers draw lightly on his back, he could still feel his warmth bring life back to his petrified, almost liveless trunk of a body, his senses gradually filling up the empty void in him limbs.  He could have left him there alone because-

Because-

_Smile for me more, what’s that look in your face. That’s not fitting for a woman. C’mon look alive lookaliv lookalive lookalive lookalive_

_You’re fucked in the head_

_Look at those eyes_

_Disgusting, you’re horrifying, no one can love someone like you_

_Only I can love you_

_Because you’re just like me_

_Mine. Forever._

Why would someone like him be loved genuinely? Why would his body belong only to him when it could satiate the hunger of so many? Why would anyone feel anything else except fear and disgust and brute lust and greed and why-

Why would he matter to anyone with everything he is right now? It had echoed in the corners of his head a lot. It had a routine of intrusive thoughts that came and tore the little bits of sanity that remained from there, stealing them from him until he was left in the verge of life and death. The empty seats of where his limbs should have been, the tearing and the barbarian body breaking him as if he were inaminate, and the hot tears and the statics invading his ears, and the helplessness and his insanity… They lingered, morphing into a someone rather than an abstract something. And it pulled a knife against his throat every night, as if he belonged to it, as if he was being held captive.

When he felt someone wrap their embrace around him, he felt the whys reiterate, he felt his body shake in fear of the unknown, anticipating everything in the hands of mercy.

_Why would this person not hurt me, do they not know me, why is he still here, why does it not hurt still. It smells familiar, numb numbnum b_

_“Hey look at me” why does he want to look at me? I’m disgusting_

_“I’m not going to hurt you.” Urie? Hurt me? He won’t…hurt me? He won’t hurt me. He never did._

_I’msosorry I’msosorryso sorry_

_“Thank you for not hurting me.”_

_“Hey, is everything alright?” It’s not I wanttodisappearireallydo and I can’thelp it_

_“It tries.”_

_“You can’t starve yourself like this. Just relax, I’ll do the rest.” Why does he want to keep me alive if I’m no use to him_

_“We’ll stop you no matter how many times it takes.” Even back then, he really wanted me to live_

_“Mutsuki, are you okay?” was he looking for me? He seems relieved to see me, I’m only alive but im notim-_

_“yeah” he doesn’t believe me, his only lighted up so little_

_“Mutsuki fall back.” I didn’t want to die then yet. I was relived he interfered. But why?_

_“I’m trying …so hard. I hate Sasaki, Shirazu, and everyone in that house. Die, all of you DIE” does he really want all of us dead? He’s angry, because he’s hurt…why is he so hurt?_

_“You’re not in the way. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.” He’s quivering like a newborn. Do men cry? Men get angry, and they get violent, and they’re confident. But they don’t cry. He attacked me, but he didn’t look aware. He’s crying again. He’s resting his head on my shoulder, why does he trust me? I’m weak, I can’t save him. We’ll get killed._

_“A G(uy) girl?” please don’ttellanyone im tryingveryhardtolivepleasedont_

_It’s like he never found out._

_“Mucchy do you want to see maman’s baby? She’s only a week old but she’s so adorable you have to see her.” Sensei…or just Kaneki…he’s distant. I don’t…can’t talk to him right now. I want to apologize to that woman, I want to know why he did that, but he wouldn’t possibly… He lies, like I do. I’d notice. Nothing would change. But formal is cool. Formal is-_

_“Nothing will start if you don’t speak up.” Urie was right. I should speak up._

_“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.” Am I allowed to cry? I am. Men cry right? Humans cry. I’m glad I’m crying. Because I feel bad. I’m glad I feel._

_“Let me introduce myself. I’m Touka Kirishima. Nice to meet you, Tooru.” She’s smiling at me.Why does she trust me? She wants to shake my hand. She’s gentle, but her eyes are so…fierce. Beautiful. She’s beautiful._

_“Mutsuki, do you want to hold her?”  How was Urie holding the baby so…calmly? How did he knew where to put his hands, how was she dozing off as if she didn’t know it was a stranger holding her?_

_“Here, extend your arms, I’ll help you out. All of us held her so it’s okay.” My hands are shaking. I tried to kill her. He’s adjusting my arm. I never meant to kill her. He finally rested her frail head on me. She’s so small, she’s loved. She’s cared for. And I tried to take that from her. I’m irredeemable. Horrible._

_“Look at how her face lighted up. She must like you.” Why did she smile like that? What did she see in me that made her relaxed? Why is she not afraid? She’s giggling again, my tears landed on one of her fingers. I’m crying. I can feel Urie’s arm pull me close in comfort. I’m glad I’m crying. Maybe I too have a chance._

_“Will we ever have that chance to taste that kind of happiness?” Urie had attended Kuroiwa’s wedding. He married the baker down the street. I was happy for them, but I knew I would never have that. Urie wanted to talk to me that day. To stop pursuing Haise. To come home sometime.  I was alienated, desperate. Then I lashed out on him. That I loved Haise…What a joke… Shocked silence. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I ran away again. I ruined Kuroiwa’s relationship back then. I ruined everything. They hate me. They should hate me. I’m-  I’m-_

_“We could someday too.” He was gazing at me, as if he was analyzing, no, admiring. Was he perhaps looking past me? His eyes were…fond. Then they pierced back into the ground. Why would he be looking at me after all? …He could be happy someday. He’ll find a woman he loves._

_Someday_

A  shrill sound shook the last drowse from his eyes and he found himself alert on his two feet grabbing on his knife instinctively. Aura had already woken up, as they were about to move again.  It didn’t sound like something living would produce. But then it shrilled again, and then again, at a time that was calculated. Very periodic. Every 20 minutes. They decided to follow the source of the noise. It got louder and more detailed the closer they approached. He just couldn’t take his hand off his knife, even though that was no sound he could fight hand to hand. It resonated from deep within the walls, as if there existed some hidden way in there you couldn’t just follow without breaking a sweat. And they did break several sweats, moved several well lids,  and in those deep-rooted routs never human-traced, they managed to find the source of the noise. Right under their feet. A well lid away from…a huge tunnel which seemed gated down its length. The ear-splitting sound seemed to resonate from the gate, as it opened and closed while dark vehicles seemed to move in and out. For the moment  their hideout was a claustrophobic path that seemed dug by hand in the lid above their heads.  Decent for as long as they needed to get used to the area so that they could infiltrate without leaving signs behind.

Now they needed a woman. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have to say, writing mutsuki pov is hard since first his pov wasn't explored much in the manga ,and he's very complex to have a right way to do it, so i'd be curious to know how did it felt on a readers perspective. Thank you for reading again :')

**Author's Note:**

> Well helloo, i never thought i'd be coming back to write about them but with raffi's help hopefully this will be something you might be interested to read (the remaining ones sailing in the ship after everything, you're the real deal)


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